Guinevere slammed her eyes shut and, in a fit of frustration, threw her phone onto the ground. The loud bang echoed through the room, startling Zachary awake.
The baby opened his eyes, and soon the soft cries filled the air.
Guinevere had been living at Ford Mansion for some time now. She was treated like the family’s daughter-in-law, though she and Weston had never actually been married. They didn’t share a room, and despite her being treated with respect by the servants, she knew her place was precarious. As long as she stayed in the mansion, she would have to tolerate Wendy’s presence and seek her approval.
She hurriedly picked up Zachary, pulling him into her arms in an attempt to soothe him, but for reasons she couldn’t understand, the more she tried to calm him, the more he cried.
Sure enough, it wasn’t long before Wendy appeared at the door, her face twisted in annoyance from the sound of Zachary’s crying.
“What are you doing?” Wendy asked, stepping into the room. “Why do you always make Zack cry?” She took the baby from Guinevere and spoke gently to him, “Grandma’s here, don’t be afraid…”
Guinevere stood there, upset, while Wendy effortlessly took control of the situation. She felt a pang of frustration. Zachary was her son, but it seemed like she couldn’t do anything right. Wendy had always been the one to comfort him, while Guinevere remained on the sidelines.
Finally, after a few moments, Zachary’s cries subsided, and he fell back to sleep. Wendy looked over at Guinevere. “Why isn’t Weston back today?”
The question caught Guinevere off guard, and her expression changed slightly. “Maybe he’s busy with work.”
Wendy said nothing at first, but she continued to carry Zachary around as she gently hushed him back to sleep. Once the baby was settled, she walked back to Guinevere, her tone colder. “I don’t know what’s going on between you and Weston, but if you’ve made up your mind to marry him, you must know how to handle it.”
Guinevere’s eyes shifted for a moment before she spoke, her voice laced with a hint of determination. “I know. I’ll live like Weston, just like you and Uncle Chris…”
At the mention of Chris, Wendy’s demeanor changed instantly. Her previously soft expression turned rigid and cold. “What happens between Chris and me has nothing to do with you!” she snapped. “If you have time to think about that, you should focus on why Weston hasn’t been home lately. Ever since you moved in, he barely comes back, even when he’s free.”
Wendy’s words were harsh, and Guinevere could feel her anger building. She wanted to argue back, but she knew better than to engage. Instead, she clenched her fists, her face showing her frustration.
“I don’t understand,” Guinevere began carefully, her voice quiet but pointed. “Aunt Wendy, do you have something against me? Ever since I moved in, it feels like you dislike everything I do.”
Wendy’s eyes narrowed, her mature beauty evident despite her age. She was no longer as young and sharp as Guinevere, but she still held her ground. “Since you’ve brought it up, let me make it clear. I don’t like you. I don’t know what’s going on between you and Weston, and I don’t want to be involved in your mess. So, behave in front of me and don’t stir up trouble.”
With that, Wendy turned her attention back to Zachary. Her face softened as she tucked him in, becoming the loving grandmother once again. Without a second glance at Guinevere, she left the room, her footsteps fading away as she exited.
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